astronauts
by creepynocuous
Summary: There's no fast-food place out there better than McDonalds, but sometimes you just gotta make exceptions when it comes to deep matters of the heart.


**astronauts**  
><strong><br>**

There he was. _There he was_. That person. That _one _person. The person. _The _person. His person. His one and only. His soulmate. His partner. The love of his life. So beautiful, so vivid. Graceful, smooth. Pure and lovely. Absolutely stunning.

Eyes so soft and bright, yet so dark and glassy. The golden hue; the opposite luminescense. So much difference, and it blended so well together. So much... _of him_ no negative words could possibly identify with. He was perfect. The percentage that someone would be left breathless by him was no less than a hundred. He had the ability to leave anyone wordless. Stunned. Shocked. _Paralyzed._

God, and looking at such a lovely view could _never _get boring and he himself got un-excited of things rather quickly. Especially if he was busy and in a hurry. Right now, he felt like he was (The feeling was lodged _way _in the back and it was more in the brain then it was in the heart, like the more important sensation he was getting now.), but that didn't matter to him at all at the moment. He didn't even know where he was or why he was there.

It had only been... well, he didn't know the time, but ever since he layed eyes on that person in front of him, he already knew that he was the best thing that ever happened to him. Love at first sight? It felt like a deeply practiced religion now instead of a vacant idea like it was before.

"Hey, bastard, are you going to pay or what, dammit?" Oh, his voice was magnificent. So perfect and melodious and smoother than you could ever imagine, even though it was so obvious that such a voice could belong to him. "Bastard! Hey!"

_'...Where did he go?' _The most handsome and beautiful person on the planet- scratch that, in the univ- _no_, in _existence, _was no longer in his view. Instead, all he could see was a plain white wall adorned with a tall, close-up picture of a tomato on what looked to be a counter. Below it was a brown table that a couple was sitting at; they were staring at him, wide-eyed with their subs paused halfway on their destinations towards the consumer's mouths.

Okay, so he was at Subway, ordering food-_ obviously_. Then why was he facing away from the counter where the sandwhiches were made and paid for? He turned his head straight to where it was supposed to be and reached his left hand up to his left cheek. It was warm and stinging. _He had been slapped._

He glanced down a bit to look at the cashier (Since he was so tall and all.) and once again, his breath started to slip away from him and his heart seemed to drop down in excitement and happiness; it was giving him a sign that _this was the one_. His eyes widened and he-

"Don't you fucking start _that _shit again, bastard." He raised his hand like he was going to slap him again, but stopped when the one who was obviously now in love seemed to gain some composure and his eyes started to go back normal; no wide pupils. Although they were still too dilated for the lighting he was in.

As he was snapped out of the spell he was in when he realized the second time that he was about to get hit, he smiled wide like he usually did. However, this smile seemed to carry more meaning.

"Sorry. Please don't hit me again." The burnette only glared at him severely and held out his hand, expecting something.

"Huh?" He rolled his eyes.

"Thirteen ninety-seven."

"Oh." His food. Of course, he had to pay for it. The blonde's smile became smaller, although it was still wide, as he pulled out a worn, black leather wallet and opened it. As he got his money out, he glanced at the other's apron for a nametag. He found the name.

_'...Breanna.' _

He laughed out loud as he pulled a ten and a five from his wallet. All he did was recieve an even more deadly glare since the annoyed cashier happened to notice where his eyes had looked for a moment.

As the money was handed to the outsretched hand, it was clenched up tightly in a fist and brought to the now open cash register. His hands moved quickly- the ten was placed, the five was placed, the dollar was taken and three pennies dissapeared. When the change was given back out-

"Hey, what's your name?" He grabbed the small amount of money and put the dollar in the wallet while dumping the spare change in his pocket before it. The green apron was grabbed roughly by the side the nametag was on.

"It's _Breanna_. Obviously you didn't read the nametag, huh, bastard?" The reply was completely sarcastic, but at least he got one. He gave back a laugh.

"I guess I didn't." He grabbed the bag with his food in it whilst picking up his drink in the other. "But really, what's your name?" Another glare.

"Mine's Alfred."

"Okay? I didn't ask for _your_ name, dumbass." Alfred thought for a second, a frown placed in his expression. Then he smiled again.

"Alright. Are you a new employee?" There was one, hesitant nod. "Cool! Well, then, see you tomorrow, Breanna!" As Alfred left the store, he could hear several names being thrown at him; most were in Italian. The ones in English didn't sound too good.

But as he walked down the sidewalk to where he worked, he slurped on his soda and started to talk to himself.

"Well, if he's new, that's probably why his nametag said Breanna." He got more odd looks from people passing by. "But that also means that he'll get his own nametag sometime soon."

He would go to Subway everyday if he had to learn his name. Sorry, McDonalds.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry to you too, Brea- I mean...-<strong>

**Well, I didn't want to give up on the other story, but I confused myself with it too much. So I deleted it and I restarted with this idea. It's not the best and it's probably a bit too generic, but I actually did try my best with it. **

**Hooray.**


End file.
